his barbarian bordes; or to hear Cicero declaiming with honest indigna tion against the vices and insolence of Anthony and Verres. Yet, our admiration must gradually subside, when we reflect, that the glory with which they were surrounded, was purchased by the misery and degradation of millions. Did we see the Romans in their true colors, we should perceive that they were in reality a selfish, perfidious, cruel, and superstitious race of barbarians, endued with the scanty and doubtful virtues of savage life, but deformed by more than its ordinary excesses, and whose original purity of manners and good faith among themselves did not en dure a moment longer than it enabled them to subdue the rest of man kind. Of the many mistakes which our classical fondness for the Romans have led us into respecting them, there is not a greater or more unfounded one than the high opinion we are apt to entertain of their domestic habits. The Queen of Cities, throned upon her seven hills, in marble majesty, the mistress of a world conquered by the valor of her sons, is a picture of our imagination, which we are unwilling to spoil by filling up all its parts with too curious accuracy. Certain it is that information enough is to be obtained from Roman authors to prepare us for a scene of much more moderate splendor in the capital of Italy. From them we may learn that all the points upon which the imagination reposes with so much complacency and delight, are perfectly consistent with misery, disorder, and filth. We may learn, that though their Venus never attracted public notice in a hooped petticoat, and though their Apollo never dashed in a blue swallow-tailed coat with brass buttons, yet, that the costume of the day, whatever it might be, was pretty generally bestowed upon their deities. We may learn, that the Romans, with all their wealth and power, and ingenious luxury, enjoyed but little real cleanliness and comfort. More of that most desirable and excellent article, comfort, may be had by any one among us, than could have been enjoyed by a Roman noble, who rode in carriages without springs, or on saddles without stirrups, or dined without knives and forks, or lived in rooms without chimneys. And, having duly weighed these and similar points of minute history, we may bring ourselves to adopt more sober views of the magnificence of ancient Rome, and of an ancient Roman. In spite of their admiration for Grecian manners, the Romans were ill-calculated for every elegant pursuit. After abandoning the rigid virtues by which Cincinnatus reached the summit of glory, they gave way to a corruption of manners, and an insatiable rapacity, which would have remained a solitary example of hu man depravity, had not revolutionary France exhibited scenes still more horrid and revolting. The tyranny of the Romans, and of the French under Bonaparte, is stamped with the same horrid features, the same unbounded and unprincipled lust of dominion rendered both the disturbers of human repose. By the pride and avidity of the descendants of Romulus, Greece was stripped of her pictures and statues; by the rapacity and avidity of the Directorial Government, and that Jacobin General, Italy was robbed of these identical statues, and of paintings more exquisitely beautiful even than those of Zeuxis or Apelles. If to plunder the vanquished of every thing that can contribute to the comfort, instruction, or the ornament of society be an object of merited censure, both nations are equally eulpable, both equally tyrants and robbers. The ravager, the exterminator, Verres, was not worse than many others of the Roman Proconsuls. Who can read the Verrine orations and nct curse from his heart this cruel and rapacious people? The money of the unhappy Si

cilians found its way to his coffers, and their grain, whilst they were starving, into his granaries. The axes of his lictors were blunted on their necks, and the favor of being put to death at a single blow was sold at a heavy price. Turn we from the cruelty, injustice, and rapacity of Verres? As we turn our eyes from the extortions of the Sicilian Prætor, they may perchance light upon the newspapers of the day, and they will there find scenes equally infamous and deplorable. The deeds of Verres stand not alone in the history of the world. What think we of those slaughtered at Vicksburg? "It was in vain that the unhappy men cried out, We are American citizens; the bloodthirsty mob, deaf to all they could urge in their own defence, ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus were innocent American citizens publicly murdered, while the only words they uttered amidst their cruel sufferings were, "We are American citizens." "O Liberty! O sound once delightful to every American ear! O sacred privilege of American citizenship! Once sacred, now trampled upon." Tell me not that the storms which now agitate the surface of our institutions are preferable to the calm unruffled sea of despotism in Russia and Austria; give me the despotism of a Nicolas and a Metternich, nay, even the tyranny of a Nero, or a Caligula, any thing but the despotism and tyranny of an infuriated mob.

The taste for gladiatorial murder, prevalent in Rome for centuries, and often indulged to the most extravagant excess, implies so wide a deviation from the common feelings and principles of humanity, that it is to be regarded as an important fact, in the moral history of man. Moralists will tell us that the truly brave are never cruel; but to this the Roman Ampitheatres say, No. There sat the conquerors of the world coolly to enjoy the torture and the death of men who had never offended them. Twice in one day came the matrons and senators of Rome to the butchery; and, when glutted with bloodshed, the Roman ladies sat down in the wet arena, streaming with the blood of their victims, to a luxurious luxurious supper. But enough of these humiliating details.

The moral to be derived from Roman history, if properly applied, is most excellent, and cannot be too often, nor too strongly inculcated. It is that the loss of civil liberty involves a destruction of every feeling which distinguishes man from the inferior part of the creation, leaving his faculties to vegetate in indolence or to become brutalized by sensuality; that public opinion, when suffered to waste its energies in wild applause of faction or tyranny, may become one of the most subservient instruments of oppression, and even bow its neck to the ground ere the foot of the tyrant be prepared to tread upon it.

LXXXIX.

ESSAY, TREATISE, TRACT, THESIS

An Essay, literally means nothing more than a trial, or an attempt. It is sometimes used to designate in a specific man

ner an author's attempt to illustrate any point. It is com. monly applied to small detached pieces, which contain only the general thoughts of a writer on any given subject, and afford room for amplification into details. Some authors modestly used the term for their connected and finished endeavours to elucidate a doctrine.*

A Treatise † is more systematic than an Essay. It treats on the subject in a methodical form, and conveys the idea of something labored, scientific, and instructive.

A Tract is only a species of small treatise, drawn up upon particular occasions, and published in a separate form.

A Thesis is a position or proposition which a person ad vances, and offers to maintain, or which is actually maintained by argument.

Essays are either moral, political, philosophical, or literary; they are the crude attempts of the youth to digest his own thoughts, or they are the more mature attempts of the man to communicate his thoughts to others. Of the former description are prize Essays in schools, and of the latter are the Essays innumerable which have been published on every subject since the days of Bacon.

Treatises are mostly written on ethical, political, or speculative subjects, such as Fenelon's, Milton's, or Locke's "Treatise on Education," De Lolme's "Treatise on the Constitution of England."

Tracts are ephemeral productions, mostly on political and religious subjects, which seldom survive the occasion which gave them birth. Of this description are the pamphlets which daily issue from the press for or against the measures of government, or the public measures of any particular party.

The Essay is the most popular mode of writing; it suits the writer who has not talent or inclination to pursue his inquiries farther, and it suits the generality of readers, who are amused with variety and superficiality. The Treatise is adapted for the student, who will not be contented with the superficial Essay, when more ample materials are within his reach.

The Tract is formed for the political or religious partisan, and receives its interest from the occurrence of the motive. The Dissertation interests the disputant. (See Dissertation, page 334.)

* See Locke's "Essay on the Understanding," and Beattie's "Essay on Truth."

†Treatise and Tract have both the same derivation, from the Latin trahe to draw, manage, or handle and its participle, tractus.

Example 1st of an Essay.

LITERATURE.

The developement of n.ind, the exertions of talent, the labors of industry, are all subjects intimately interwoven with the moral character of a rational and accountable being. It is a curious and interesting investigation to trace the history of man, as he emerges from a state of nature, and passes through the successive gradations, from mere animal existence, to a state of refined civilization and moral culture. And it is equally delightful to the man of letters, to behold the effects of learning in its various stages, in amending the inward state of mankind, as the refinements of luxury add to their external convenience.

It is a common remark with the historian, that the discovery of the use of iron is the first step from savage to civilized life. The remark is just, but must be received in a limited sense; for there is an internal as well as external history; a history of mind as well as of matter; an intellectual civilization distinct from the history of nations, and independent of the combinations of beauty of figure and of color. What iron is to the animal nature of man, literature is to his intellectual condition. The former supplies him with the means of defence, enables him to overcome the debility of his organic powers, and endues him with factitious strength, as useful as that which nature has conferred. The latter preserves the acquisitions of the former, guides its operations, concentrates its usefulness, and enables him to avail himself of the achievements of genius struggling with the inertness of matter, or fettered by the restrictions of ignorance and barbarity. The history of literature is the history of the noblest powers of man. There is a sameness in savage life, which affords but little interest to speculation; and confines the investigations of the philosopher and man of observation within narrow limits. The scope of his abilities is narrow and contracted. The construction of rude implements, the provision of the necessaries of life, the strifes, collisions, and bitter feuds of hostile and ambitious chiefs, deficient in interest, because deficient in incidents; the simple tales of love or the sombre stories of licentiousness, these form the material of the history of nations, upon whom science has never beamed, vor literature shed its renovating rays. In the relation of these incidents there is no history of mind, no account of the progress of intellect, further than what is observed in the ingenuity of mechanical contrivance, limited by the ignorance of the properties of things. But the invention of letters, preceded by the mysticism of hieroglyphic symbols, gave a new face to the world; enlarged the subjects of knowledge, and changed man from a mere animal to an intellectual being. The history of literature, from the invention of letters to the present day, involves all that is interesting in the history of man. To what purpose would the divine gifts of speech and reason have been conferred, unless the monuments of their achievements should have more stability than could exist as they float on the recollections of a single generation. The animal nature of man might, so far as posterity is concerned, be considered the nobler because the more permanent part of his being. The structures which his hands have reared, though still amenable to the laws of decay, would survive the shocks of ages, while no monument would exist of his immortal spirit; no recollec

tion remain of that which distinguishes him from the inferior order beings. Age would succeed to age without witnessing any accession to the fields of knowledge. Traditionary lore, like the rays of light, would vary in its import as it passed from hand to hand, and one generation could not be enriched by the acquisitions of its predecessor. But the invention of letters has established a chancery by which the acquisitions of one age have been handed down as a rich inheritance to its successor; while the later age, like the posterity of an ancient family, has revelled in the riches entailed by its ancestors. Such are the effects of literature, considered only as it enlarges the fields of knowledge, and gives a wider range to the exercise of the intellectual faculties.

But there is another and a more interesting, because more important, view to be taken of its influence, as it operates on the moral nature of mankind. In the construction of implements of defence, in the arrangement of architectural convenience, in the pursuit of the objects of sense, ́man is superior to some species of the brute creation, only as his corporeal powers are better adapted to mechanical exertion. The bee, the beaver, the ant, and other inferior orders, rival the most successful efforts of man in the construction of a habitation adapted to the respective exigencies of each. But they operate by instinct, his labors are the suggestions of necessity in conference with inventive power's; and it is a curious investigation to trace the gradations from destitution to comfort, from comfort to convenience, and from convenience to ease, and, in its proper connexion, the moral influence of each upon the character of mankind. There it will be found that the vaunted nobleness of savage nature, the magnanimity ascribed by some even of the present day, to the uncultivated states of society, are but the chimeras of prejudice, or at least but erroneous deductions from solitary examples. The history of literature, will abundantly show that such instances are but the taper in the dungeon, which appears the brighter from the darkness by which it is surrounded; while in the improved forms of life, in those ages when the brightness of learning has dispelled the clouds in the minds of men, and day has dawned upon the eyes of all, the aspen flame is eclipsed by brighter light, and is unnoticed, because it is unfavored by the advantages of contrast.

Laws owe their permanency to their consistency; and their consistency is mainly to be attributed to a wise consideration of the exigencies of society, deduced from the operations of cause and effect upon the human mind. When history, therefore, is silent, their deductions must be made from a limited view of society; and, like all conclusions drawn from va rious views, are likely to be erroneous. It is letters which give a tongue to history, and provide it with a distinct utterance. It is letters which make the past a monitor to the present, and the present a guide to the future.

The view which we have thus taken of literature is narrow and circumscribed. Indeed, the subject is as exhaustless as its objects are innumerable. He must be dead to the most refined pleasures of which his nature is susceptible, who is deaf to the claims of literature to his attention, or is blind to the importance and value of learning